Way Up High

I'll tell you a secret
There's no such thing as time and space
The stars and comets
Will survive the human race

What's done is done
Today is seven years since you're gone
I'm doing well so far
I'm still wondering where you are

Way up high
Way up high
Way up high
Way up high

I'll tell you my secret
That sunny afternoon in March
Changed my life completely
Turned out to be a brand new start

What's done is done
It's been seven years since you're gone
Tonight I think of you
I know one day I'll join you too

Way up high
Way up high
Way up high
Way up high
Way up high
Way up high
Way up high
Way up high

It's hard not to look at the ground as you walk
To set your sights low, keep the world spinning and try to stay grounded wherever you are
But every so often you remember to look up and imagine the possibilities
Dreaming of what's out there. Before long, you find yourself grounded once again
Grounded in the sense of being homebound
Stuck on Earth
The more you look to the sky, the more you find yourself back on Earth, confronting certain possibilities
It's possible that there are other names for our planet, that we will never know
That there are constellations that feature our sun, from an angle we'll never get to see
That there are many other civilizations hidden beyond the veil of time, too far away for their light to ever reach us
We dream of other worlds, and name them after our old discarded gods, and they seem almost as distant - too far to be seen with the naked eye
Only ever in artist's renditions
Or a scattering of pixels on a monitor, with the colors tweaked to add a bit of flair
Even our own neighbourhood is impossibly vast
We're used to showing the planets nested together because if we drew them to scale, they'd be so far apart, they wouldn't fit on the same page
And even our own moon, that seems to hang so close to Earth
But still so far away that all the other planets could fit in the space between them
It's possible our spacesuits won't need treaded boots ever again
That one day soon we'll tire of wandering and move back home for good
And we'll get used to watching our feet as we walk, occasionally stopping to hurl a single probe into the abyss, like a message in a bottle
Maybe it shouldn't matter if anyone ever finds it
If nobody's there to know we once lived here on Earth
Maybe it should be like skipping a stone across the surface of a lake
It doesn't matter where it ends up, It just matters that we're here on the shore
Just trying to have fun and pass the time, and see how far it goes

The primary difficulties that we observed was that there was just far too little time to do the variety of things that we would have liked to have done